


Winter Wonderland

by AnnetheCatDetective



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: (but also vacation disaster recovery), Canon Disabled Character, M/M, Newt is resourceful and determined, Winter, fireplace-adjacent sex, vacation disasters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2019-02-26 04:32:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13228134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnetheCatDetective/pseuds/AnnetheCatDetective
Summary: Newt has planned a romantic getaway for his anniversary with Hermann. It isn't exactly what he had planned...





	Winter Wonderland

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SharkCrisps](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SharkCrisps/gifts).



“I think we’ve established it’s not ideal.” Hermann huffs, and he shoots Newt a glare when he dares chuckle.

 

“Sorry! I wasn’t laughing at this, promise. I just-- thought of… Yeah, okay.”

 

Newt sighs, his shoulders slumping as he surveys the ‘dream chalet’. He’d just wanted a nice little getaway for them. It was almost the anniversary of their saving the world together, which meant it was almost almost the anniversary of their getting together, they had survived holiday visits to both families… all he had wanted was to give Hermann some time to not worry about the rest of the world, some beautiful scenery to look at through the windows, and a whole lot of cozy. 

 

The cabin they’ve just been dropped off at is not what Newt had envisioned, and not what the photos on the website led him to believe he’d be getting, either. He’s too disappointed to be as angry as he’d like to be. Anger is easier, is what he wants to feel-- he’d been deceived into spending a fair amount of money, he thinks he has every right to be angry, but Hermann’s unhappiness just makes him feel down. 

 

The view is beautiful, but the view is the only thing-- the furniture looks in poor shape, the heating doesn’t seem to be working, the kitchen was shot with some kind of lens, because it’s a lot smaller than he’d been led to believe, the ‘indoor hot tub’ is… well, it’s a tub, it has a couple of jets, but it definitely looks like it could be cleaner, and it definitely does not meet Newt’s definition of a hot tub. 

 

Worst of all is the loft. The only bed is in the loft. The second bedroom he thought they’d be using as a backup is currently serving as an office, which is the last thing they need on their romantic getaway. Normally, Hermann would have no trouble zipping up a ladder-- hell, less trouble than Newt would!-- but after all the traveling, the long-distance flights, the cramped, hard seating waiting for connections, and the bumpy mountain road, he’s in no shape. A fact Newt had thought he had planned for.

 

“Okay. Right. I’m fixing this.” He says. He will not allow Hermann to be disappointed! 

 

“Newt, there’s no fixing this.” Hermann groans. “We’ll just… ride it out. We’ve survived worse.”

 

That fires him up-- survived worse! Their romantic getaway isn’t something to be ‘survived’ or ‘ridden out’! No, Hermann is going to enjoy this! 

 

“I’m fixing it!” He starts for the fireplace. If the heat is out, well… they’ve still got this. He can hear Hermann sigh, and perch very gingerly on a chair Newt thinks is older than they are.

 

Hermann’s skepticism turns to cautious appreciation when Newt has a roaring fire going, the grate moved back into place. But Newt can’t stop to sit down and appreciate it, no-- there’s still work to be done. 

 

At least there are cleaning supplies under the kitchen sink, allowing Newt to tackle the big bathtub. The tub really does have an amazing view… and okay, it’s not a real hot tub, but he likes to think he’s an inventive guy, a problem solver. Once the thing is clean and usable, Newt’s back is aching, but his spirits are high. 

 

“The couch doesn’t fold out.” Hermann informs him, after his own further inspection of the main floor and its furniture. “I don’t think we’ll be able to sleep together. Luckily I packed bedsheets…”

 

“Oh ye of little faith… Are they good bedsheets?” Newt peeks into Hermann’s luggage. No wonder he’d had so much for such a short trip… “Dude, did you bring your pillow? Did you really think so little of my abilities to get us a reputable-- okay yeah, I get your point.”

 

“It wasn’t your fault, dear.” Hermann cups his cheek, guiding him in for a kiss. “Thank you for the fire. And for washing the tub out. It may not be what you envisioned, but if you’re feeling tired and sore after all your hard work, I always find a good hot soak with some epsom salts works wonders.”

 

“Did you pack  _ epsom salts _ ?” He dives back into Hermann’s luggage, emerging triumphant with the package in his hands. 

 

“I don’t know why you’re-- I really don’t know why you’re like this at all.” Hermann shakes his head, when Newt goes from disbelief to maniacal cackling. 

 

“Get that water running nice and hot for me, babe, I will be there soon. I am going to be so fucking pissed if the groceries weren’t stocked…”

 

“You’re going to starve if they didn’t get the groceries stocked.” Hermann snorts, but he starts getting the tub filling just the same, waiting until Newt is in the kitchen before he slips the clean towels out of his own luggage. 

 

In the kitchen, Newt digs through the cupboards and the fridge. The cream of tartar he finds might be ancient, but it should do the job, and the olive oil will suffice as well. Luckily, Hermann’s epsom salts were already lavender-infused… 

 

He finds a muffin tin to mold the things in, but the first bath bomb really isn’t going to get any dry time. Still… even if it doesn’t succeed as a bath bomb, the ones he’s got drying will do better-- the one for their last day should be as good as anything store-bought. And it’s still epsom salts and some oil, anyway, it’ll still be nice, they’ve got the jets.

 

“Newton!” Hermann calls. “Where have you gone with my salts and why? The tub is full-- Newt!”

 

“Coming, coming-- sheesh, I was just around the corner in the kitchen… Bath bomb?”

 

Hermann’s irritation melts instantly, a charmed smile taking its place. “So that’s what you’ve done with my salts… Newt, that is-- that’s lovely.”

 

“It’s kind of a hot mess.” Newt laughs. “But it’s the thought that counts, right?”

 

“It doesn’t have to look nice to do the job. Come and help me undress?”

 

He doesn’t need to ask twice. Newt carefully sets the bath bomb on the tub’s edge, hurrying to help Hermann out of his layers and layers of clothing. Well, Hermann had already shed his coat and boots after the fire had been built, so Newt really only needs to divest him of two shirts, one pair of wool trousers, two pairs of socks, and some long underwear. 

 

Once Hermann has settled into the tub, Newt is quick to strip down to join him. The uncured bath bomb is not exactly perfect, but the epsom salts within are still well appreciated… 

 

“It’s not so bad, is it?” He asks, sliding an arm around Hermann.

 

“No, of course it-- of course it’s not so bad. I know you had so much planned, dear, and this was nobody’s idea of a dream when we arrived, but… you know I would be-- I would enjoy a weekend with you anywhere in the world. I’m sorry if I was short with you before… you really have done so much and I really do appreciate it.”

 

“I’m not done yet. There’s no way I’m not sleeping with you.”

 

“You’re not carrying me up a ladder.”

 

“No, I’m not.” Newt laughs. “But I’ve got a solution. I’ve got you taken care of.”

 

“All right, then I trust you.” Hermann kisses him softly. “I trust you.”

 

That’s all Newt thinks he needs to hear in life… Hermann likes to be in control of things-- being given carte blanche on trust is a big deal, especially after he booked this disaster for them in the first place. But this feels good… the bath is nice and hot, Hermann is nicer and hotter, and the sunset outside paints the snow with soft colors, warm lemon yellow giving way to hot coral pink, the shadows of the trees all purple and blue.

 

“I kind of wanted to, like, bring you a glass of champagne here, but there’s no champagne.”

 

“A whole bottle of champagne’s a bit of a waste, isn’t it? We’d barely make a dent in it over our weekend…”

 

“Mm. Maybe so.” Newt shrugs. It would have been nice anyway… they could have taken the rest home with them. He hadn’t been specific enough when he’d ordered the groceries, that was the problem-- but he’d kind of thought ‘romantic anniversary getaway’ would have brought champagne to mind. There’s some beer neither of them is going to touch-- for all that Hermann barely drinks any alcohol due to his meds schedule, he’s a snob about beer, and if it’s not a rauchbier or a doppelbock, it’s crap. There’s a six pack of Sprite, which Newt absolutely will drink, perhaps while lounging in a hot bath with a breathtaking view.

 

He might have gotten someone else’s groceries by mistake, but they can make it work… as long as he’s not paying for some other cabin’s champagne and steak, or whatever romantic, luxurious feast he imagines was mistakenly  _ not  _ sent to him.

 

“Mm, it’s a good thing you’ve got a plan for getting us into bed together tonight…” Hermann murmurs, his lips brushing Newt’s ear. “Otherwise, the things I would be tempted to do… I would ruin this bathwater.”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“No champagne required.”

 

“This weekend is really looking up.”

 

“Isn’t it just?”

 

“Hermann… you know what I want to hear.”

 

Hermann chuckles, his hand sliding up Newt’s chest.

 

“You have been a  _ very productive _ man this afternoon. It is something I  _ really appreciate _ .” He purrs, rolling his Rs and sending little shivers down Newt’s spine. “And you’re  _ terribly _ easy to reduce into butter, aren’t you?”

 

“Uh-huh.” Newt nods. It’s not that he needs any extra incentive to get into a shared bed with Hermann-- the idea of sleeping apart is not one he likes even when they aren’t having a special anniversary getaway. But if he had needed the incentive, Hermann sure does know how to provide.

 

He relaxes a while longer, while Hermann nibbles at his neck and pets at him, just letting his own hands roam a little, over Hermann’s thigh or through his hair. He forces himself out before things get too heated, adding some more hot water for Hermann to make up for the lost volume and combat the cooling of the bath. Hermann ogles him while he dries off and pulls his clothes back on, which is a very nice feeling.

 

“Stay in the tub where it’s safe, babe?”

 

“Those are not words that inspire confidence.” Hermann says, but he looks pretty relaxed.

 

Newt gets the old, not-entirely-trustworthy furniture pushed back away from the hearth, crowded into where it won’t block the walkways of the open space, and then he hurries up the ladder-- if only travel didn’t take such a toll, he thinks Hermann would have loved the loft! The view is great, it’s cozy and the heat rises up to it, and while the furniture downstairs was ancient and sketchy, the bed really does look great. Newt sits down on the foot of the bed just to test it, bouncing a little. Not too firm, not too soft, perfect.

 

He doesn’t think about getting the mattress back  _ up _ the ladder when their stay ends, he just tries to control its descent from the loft to the main floor as best he can. Maneuvering it into place in the center of the living space isn’t the easiest thing in the world, either, but he manages, and then he gets it changed into Hermann’s sheet set-- he doesn’t think the one that was on it is a problem, but he doesn’t want to argue about it, and he doesn’t want Hermann trying to do it while kneeling on the floor, which is how he thinks it would end. It’s enough trouble having it down on the floor, but while Newt can’t carry Hermann up the ladder, he can help him down and up again in the mornings. 

 

Hermann doesn’t have any complaints about the low bed, when he joins him-- shivering, just in his towel until he slips under the covers with a steadying hand from Newt.. 

 

“So, like… this is pretty romantic, right? Making love in front of a roaring fire?”

 

“It is the most romantic thing anyone has ever done for me.”

 

“Hermann…” Newt says pleadingly.

 

“ _ Rrromantic _ .” Hermann repeats, struggling not to laugh.

 

“Fuck, I love it when you get all German…” Newt groans, tearing his own clothes off again so that he can join Hermann under the covers. Their brief stop in Bavaria had been an utterly hellish combination of Hermann’s complete reversion to his native dialect, and the very unsexy vibe of the Gottlieb family home. Berlin had been easier, except for Newt’s mortification at his mother’s open support for whatever kind of sex life he and Hermann needed to have on their vacation-- and if Newt was mortified, Hermann had just about fainted when she’d told them, matter-of-factly over dinner their first night in Germany, that there was a variety pack of condoms in the guest room for them because she had no idea what sort was right and thought they might be too busy to pick some up for themselves, with all the travel.

 

Boston had been the easiest of the three stops, but of course sleeping in Newt’s childhood bedroom wasn’t sexy… After all the family time, he thinks they deserve some time that can be about just them-- and yes, about the sex. 

 

One of them is going to have to get up and look in the kitchen at the actual food, and make dinner… but it can wait. The whole world can wait.

 

Hermann tugs at Newt’s hip, buries his other hand in Newt’s hair and kisses him, guiding him into position so that they can grind against each other a little, make out… so that Newt’s hands can travel absolutely everywhere while they work at building things back up, to where they had gotten in the tub and beyond. 

 

“Just like this…” Hermann gasps, and Newt hums against his throat. Just like this… 

 

He could finish like this, given the time… he’s pretty sure Hermann could get him there any way and every way, and maybe a few ways he hasn’t even heard of yet. Hermann could strap him to a chair and read him the phone book from across the room, and as long as he kept rolling those Rs, Newt might just come without a single hand on his cock, but it doesn’t sound like the most satisfying thing for either of them. If Hermann was going to tie him to a chair, he’d probably think of more interesting things to do to him, and his voice would probably get tired before he got to the Rs, and also Newt doesn’t think phone books have existed for maybe a decade? Encyclopedias haven’t existed for longer. Hermann could pull up either online, but somehow it didn’t seem the same-- Hermann sitting across the room reading something off his phone really lacked the drama and the aesthetic.

 

He rocks his hips against Hermann’s and leaves several hickies that should fade before they need to rejoin society. If he’s off by a day, Hermann’s going to be wearing a scarf, anyway-- maybe two scarves, when he goes outside. Hermann is the one who moans like he’s auditioning for ‘Math Twinks Anal Adventures 7’ every time Newt kisses his neck, so Newt doesn’t know what else he’s supposed to do but just try and keep the marks light and short-lasting. Hermann would complain if he didn’t get any sucking and nibbling.

 

In return, Hermann gives Newt exactly what he needs, his accent coming out when he says ‘harder’ or ‘right there’, his fingers so tight in Newt’s hair... the feel of their bodies aligning, working together…

 

Newt can’t resist a peek under the tent of the covers, after Hermann has already come, his cock still hard, the slick mess on his belly, and just seeing himself roll his hips to grind against him a little more, just once, twice, three times and done, his own release spilling out to join Hermann’s, some spurting up to his chest, one pearly droplet just at the edge of a taut nipple. Hermann whimpers when Newt ducks his head and licks at it, even though it’s his own and he’d normally rather swallow Hermann’s, just for sentimental reasons. It’s the visual, though, the visual demands to be licked. 

 

Hermann gives Newt’s shoulder a weak little push, and he grabs for the towel he’d shed earlier. It’s still damp enough to use for cleanup.

 

“Give me a minute. And find me my pajamas in my luggage and I’ll cook for you.” He groans. “Where are we supposed to eat in this house, anyway?”

 

“Bed?”

 

Hermann considers this a moment, and then grunts in a way which Newt takes to mean he approves. There’s a little table and chairs near the kitchen, but the chairs are hard wood, not at all friendly to Hermann’s hip. Without some specialized cushioning, Newt thinks it’s a no-go. Plus he’d have to scrub the table to Hermann’s specifications, too. But lounging in bed, feeding each other bites of whatever… he can get behind that for sure.

 

He gets their pajamas, and helps Hermann up and into his, and while Hermann putters around the kitchen, Newt throws some more wood on the fire, stoking it. At least they have plenty-- they can keep the fire going non-stop for the heat, even when they don’t need it for the ambience.

 

“Pasta, dear?” Hermann calls.

 

“Sounds romantic to me!” Newt grins, getting the screen back into place, returning the poker to its spot. He flops out on the bed and enjoys the sounds of Hermann cooking, half-singing to himself under his breath now and then.

 

“Good-- you deserve a good meal, something that sticks to the ribs…” Hermann says, as if unaware that a good five minutes has passed between Newt answering and his speaking again. “You’ve done so much to make our trip nice, I want to reward your hard work. Mm-- tomorrow night we might have fish if you like? I’m just looking at what’s in the freezer for us. Just crisped up and seared, yes… on a bed of rice, oh, but I’m  _ not  _ using this canned asparagus…”

 

Newt smiles softly to himself as Hermann goes off on his tangent. He’s glad to give canned asparagus a miss, but he’s gladder to have Hermann thinking about the best romantic dinners possible given their food supplies, to have Hermann wanting to cook him nice romantic dinners in exchange for all of his own work towards making the romance happen. Maybe they could cook tomorrow night’s together. 

 

“Oh, Newton--” Hermann gasps, and it sounds like that pasta must be something special. Newt gets up, spotting him on his way from kitchen to bed, frozen in place and staring out the window. “Oh, look at the  _ stars _ !”

 

Newt positively glows, coming to join him, looking out the big tall windows just beyond the tub. The sky is filled with stars, even Garmisch-Partenkirchen hadn’t compared to this night sky-- though it had been pretty close. 

 

Newt finds himself more taken with the moon, full and silvery. Beneath that moon, the snow seems to glow, he could go walking out in it and not need a flashlight for a moment…

 

“Pasta looks good, too.” He adds, because he doesn’t want to not say anything about Hermann’s own work, even if it isn’t the majesty of the cosmos or anything.

 

“Really, Newton.” Hermann says, but his cheeks look pink and the smile he fights is pleased. “Really… This place is perfect after all, isn’t it?”

 

“So I should book all our vacations?”

 

“Absolutely not.”


End file.
